


But You Will Always Be Right Here

by lizardkid



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Hurt/Comfort (kinda), M/M, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-25
Updated: 2013-10-25
Packaged: 2017-12-30 10:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1017360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizardkid/pseuds/lizardkid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie has anxiety attacks, but Mac always makes things okay again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	But You Will Always Be Right Here

Very often the world moved a little too fast for Charlie to get a grasp on it, like everything was too out of sync to make some sense of it all. Mac had told him that when this happened he should simplify everything. Mac had told him a lot of things that night actually, but Charlie had promised not to speak about them and Mac was his friend, so all that mattered was what he’d said about simplifying things. Charlie was a little unsure because people told him he was simple anyway, and if he was already simple then simplifying things just wouldn’t work. Mac had looked at him funny when he’d accidentally said that aloud, but ignored it (like Mac sometimes does), and told him to just categorise things into “okay” and “not okay”. It took a very long time for Charlie to be able to do this properly, because sometimes things felt both okay and not okay at the same time, and that made things even worse. But in the end, he got it, and it made things better, because Mac was much cleverer than the others gave him credit for.

Here was what he decided, more or less, each time: Beer? Okay. Beer always made him feel pretty fucked in his head, but in a good way; an okay way, because it made things harder to remember. Dennis was not okay. Dennis always made things worse. Dennis’s words always felt sharp and they hurt and sometimes it made Charlie want to run as far away from the bar as possible and then curl up in a corner. This had happened a few times, actually, but after a while he realised that nobody was going to come for him because Dennis was a dick, and Mac was too smashed to think straight most of the time, so he’d ended up leaving the dumpster and heading back to the bar. Definitely not okay. Knees, high school, and his illiteracy being brought up were also in the not okay category. The waitress, ghouls, dancing, guns, and spaghetti were all okay with him. His favourite okay thing was Mac, though. Mac made his heart feel rattle-y and funny, like a tin can caught in a washing machine for hours and hours that he can’t stop staring at even though he wants to get it out and eventually someone finds him watching it and they drag him out to get a beer. Except, nobody can drag him away from the weird heart feeling to get a beer, even though he wishes they could.

Right now he wanted Mac more than anything, because Mac always knew what to say. He always brought beer and good quality glue and helped him with breathing exercises that he said were for anxiety. Charlie had known Mac for almost their entire lives, and he was pretty sure that Mac didn’t have anxiety. Which meant that Mac had found the breathing exercises specifically to help Charlie out, and that meant that Mac cared about him. But by the time he’d figured this out, he was already half asleep on his best friend’s stomach and forgot to thank him. It was probably for the best because Mac loved attention and he had to be careful with his compliments otherwise Mac would get all big-headed and try to get Charlie to call him stupid shit like “The Cool One” or “Badass Mac" which, frankly, Charlie was never going to call him and he should probably have just accepted that fact by now.

But Mac wasn't here, and Charlie was trying to focus on what he'd be saying if he were.

Instead, he passed out.

\--

If Mac were Superman, then Charlie would have to be Lois Lane. This was the first thought that entered his head when he woke up and saw Mac looking half angry, half shit-scared, and leaning over him. He suddenly remembered that he needed to thank Mac for teaching him those breathing exercises, even though he'd forgotten to do them this time, and that maybe if he made Mac feel good then he’d stop looking at him right now as if he was the worst person in the entire world. "I don't want to be Lois Lane," he said instead.

"You—Charlie—What?" They weren't the words he'd tried for, but the desired result was the same. Mac's facial expression returned his default “what the fuck are you talking about, you moron”, which Charlie was more than happy about. 

“What are you—What are you doing here, dude? How long have I been out for?” He sat up straight and immediately regretted it; felt like he was about to throw up, or pass out again. Mac’s hands were at his shoulders immediately guiding him back down.

“Shit, careful! Don’t—Don’t move too fast. You look like you hit your head pretty hard, Charlie.” Mac was frowning down at him, all traces of anger gone from his face. “I came because of your voicemail, Charlie. Do you remember that?” Charlie stared up at him, having trouble focusing on his face or—actually, trouble focusing on anything at all. “Okay,” Mac continued a little slower. “Well—just wait here and I’ll get you some water. Stay awake now, okay?” Charlie nodded.

When he returned, Charlie was asleep on the floor, snoring softly.

“God _fucking_ dammit, Charlie.”

\--

He woke up again, but this time Charlie figured that Mac was more like Thor. Which would make Charlie, uh—well, that wasn't important. "I guess Thor has slightly bigger muscles than you, dude." Mac had the murderous look back in his eye, so Charlie tried to back pedal. "No! Look, see—the muscles are the reason I thought of you in the first place! You're more Thor than Superman, anyway. Superman is a pussy! Fuck Superman, this means I don't have to be Lois Lane, which is _awesome_ because that bitch is stupid as shit."

"Charlie—"

"No, no, hear me out here, Mac. If you were Superman you'd have a weakness, right? Kryptonite, yeah? Thor doesn't have a fucking kryptonite, Thor is badass as fuck! And Thor doesn't have a secret identity and neither do you, so that's another point in his favour. Unless you count your awful gay crush on Dennis as a secret identity which, hey, I'm not judging, but as your friend I feel obliged to tell you that Dennis is an asshole and you would probably be much happier with—"

"Dude! I do not have a goddamn crush on Dennis, what the hell! Will you just—please stop talking because you need to drink some water before you fucking crash on me again, dickhole!"

A silence stretched between them as Charlie regarded Mac suspiciously. Mac was great and all but he was so pushy. Taking a deep breath, Charlie nodded his consent and sat up slowly. Thankfully his head didn’t dive bomb this time, but the way Mac was looking at him made his tummy feel a little weird.

After downing the water, he found it hard to look Mac in the eye. For some reason he felt guilty, and sad, and sick all at once, like when he ate cat food. Except this was worse. “I’m sorry,” he said, because it felt like the right thing to say. “I’m sorry I said Dennis is a dick and—ah, the other stuff? I can’t really…remember what I said…I still feel kinda…”

“Whatever, dude, Dennis is a dick. I hate that guy.” 

And that was it. Charlie raised his eyebrows and began to speak, but swallowed it back down again.

“So, anyway, what were you saying about my muscles?”

\--

Mac was an awesome dude. Seriously, a really fucking rad guy that most people misjudged so badly. Who else would let you crash at their house and spoon with you in a totally heterosexual way? Fuckin' nobody, that's who. Mac was his best friend, and possibly his soulmate, and Charlie was actually pretty sure he loved him. In, like, a really gay way. The gayest way imaginable, and Mac loved pretty much everyone who showed him affection, so maybe Charlie was in with a chance. But Mac was also the most "No Homo" guy he knew, which was saying a lot, and actually when he thought about it, Charlie couldn't find a single heterosexual thing about the way Mac was pressed up against his back or the way it filled every single hopeless atom of his inadequate, tiny body with a sloshy, overflowing warmth. Kinda like piss, actually. In fact, realising he was definitely in love with Mac was exactly like pissing his pants.

"Dude," Mac said, and god dammit, Charlie really had to work on his brain-to-mouth shit because realising he'd said all that aloud was the most terrifying realisation of his entire life. "How's this for 'No Homo'." And just like that, Mac was rolling on top of him and pressing a trail of kisses from Charlie's neck up to his lips, eliciting a ridiculous moan from Charlie. "I love you, too, you stupid fucking idiot, but please don't ever compare loving me to pissing yourself again or else I will personally make sure you never receive another blowjob like this in your life."

And shit, the brain-to-mouth thing could definitely wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from "Love" by Seahaven. This is my second ever published fic so comments would be super appreciated!


End file.
